Memories
by Mollylyn
Summary: Formerly 'Reflection' and 'The Wait'. I'm combining some one-shots in no particular order, but they're all pieces of the same story. Contains Jam, and Jam Spoilers from seasons 1-4.
1. Reflection

**A/N: In my attempts to write another chapter to 'Changes' I've had nothing but ideas for short Jam one shots... evidently I'm no procrastinating my procrastination tool... anyway...**

**Contains spoilers for most episodes with Jam moments. Oh, and I spilled Jam all over the keyboard on this one, somewhat sappy Jam at that, so perhaps non-Jammers should just close their browser windows right now. Seriously, nothing police-y in this bit, just Jam. Just shut the damn thing now.**

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><p><em>To his credit, he did have to follow Spike, the demolitions expert with a sense of humour who instantly bonded with each and every member of their team, and he likely deserved a break for that. It was never in her nature to extend him such a courtesy, and so she never did. Never went easy on him, never gave him a break because he was new. They had a tough job to do, and she expected perfection. A trait he took his time exhibiting. <em>

She sat down at the antiqued vanity, examining her reflection in the mirror. How did she get here?

_He had been the worst rookie ever.  
><em>_Cocky. Arrogant. A real brute. Infuriating. Irritating. Nauseating with his inability to shut his mouth.  
><em>_And yet every time he spoke, she hoped it was to her. Every time she had the chance to show him up, she would, in hopes that it would lead to some kind of witty smack talk between the two of them.  
><em>_Because talking to him, bickering with him, was often the highlight of her day._

She pulled at a few loose strands of hair and began to run them through the curling iron, carefully placing pins where they needed to be.

_Somewhere along the line, she supposed, he had dragged her into his trap. Somewhere in him she must have sensed a soul, because suddenly she was granting him chances left, right, and centre. She'd caved to his invitation to dinner, repeating 'just a burrito' to herself the entire time. She still hated burritos, still thought it a miracle that she had made it through that dinner without gagging.  
><em>_Then it had been her turn to ask. She'd asked him to coffee, which lead to them spending the night sitting in the back of her jeep, chatting about everything from where he grew up to how she ended up on Team One.  
><em>_After a tough day he had even let himself into her locker room unannounced, and felt the need to assess the brilliantly coloured bruise developing on her back with not just his eyes but his fingers.  
><em>_Then that cocky bastard had had the audacity to kiss her, on the street out front of the Royal York no less. Then she was done for. She jumped, not fell but jumped, straight into a world of sneaking around with him, enjoying his company as her secret boyfriend, enjoying their stealthy affair more than she wanted to admit._

She glanced at her cell phone, checking the time. It was crawling by, a fact that left her confused as she didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

_Somewhere along the line it had fallen apart. She got shot, was given an ultimatum, and made a choice. In spite of all the hours he spent visiting her in the hospital, walking with her around and around those damn halls, never once letting up on her choice of footwear, she made the choice.  
><em>_She chose the job over him.  
><em>_It wasn't easy for him to hear, she could see that. And, although she tried hard to hide it, it wasn't easy for her to say. She remembered how hard she cried the nights leading up to her dumping him, and how much harder she cried after she finally pulled the plug on them, a fitting metaphor considering how much of their time had been spent around hospitals._

She anxiously drummed her fingers on the vanity, wondering where to begin.

_The months after she had pulled the plug and effectively destroyed them were nothing short of awkward. They avoided each other as much as they could considering how much time their job required them to spend together. They danced around the subject of their lives outside of work, with faux friendly small talk filling the place of awkward 'goodnights' and 'see you laters'. _

Adjusting her position on the small stool she dug through her makeup case, before pulling out some eyeshadow she had never really used before. She'd bought it on a whim, but it never seemed '_her'_ enough to wear. Now seemed like as good a time as any to give it a try. She brushed it on, then, on a second thought, wiped it off. It didn't work. It wasn't her. It wasn't a good time to be making herself look like someone, something, she's not.

_Then there was Toth. In some sick twist of fate she supposed one could argue he was responsible for this, though she'd never allow such a thing. She still detested the way he had stepped in and shook up their lives like he did, even if the vast majority of what had come of his evaluation was, ultimately, for the better.  
><em>_It had been just the provocation they had needed to drop the act and start having actual conversations again. It was also what lead her to his door. She never could have predicted that this would be where things would have ended up after that day. Perhaps she dreamt it once, but never believed it could be.  
><em>_Not like this._

She gently pushed her bangs to the side as she finished applying a more neutral shade of eyeshadow and paused to take in her current appearance. She looked at her eyes in the mirror, her nose, her mouth. She looked at her ears, fitted with the earrings Nat had suggested she wear today. Her gaze drifted downwards to her arm, where a once painful shrapnel wound had changed into a scar. She knew it would fade, but it would certainly never disappear. Unlike most of her scars, she hoped it wouldn't. It held the memories of a far better day than the average person might have perceived it to be.

_That day had kickstarted a new sort of life. Suddenly there was no more secret boyfriend, no more stealthy affair. They were public knowledge. Free. Everything was shifting. Somehow it excited her more than the adrenaline of the stealthy affair ever had. She loved that she could suddenly smile, be happy, and not have to lie about why.  
><em>_The team had made a routine of going to see Raf sing, and they were finally able to arrive together, sit together, leave together. Sam had even developed a habit of lazily slinging an arm around her, not in a protective way like she had felt other guys had tried to before, but in a sweet way._

She pulled out her mascara, double checked the label. On Sophie's advice she had made sure it was waterproof, though she didn't see why. She was a strong woman, she wasn't going to cry. Not over this, not in front of all those people.

_Finally came the day that everything shifted once again. The day that had subsequently led to this day. Funny how things work like that._

She finished applying her lipstick. Last was the remainder of her jewellery. She put on the necklace he had gotten her their first valentine's day together, careful to make sure it was centred with the clasp in the back. Next she turned her attention to her left hand. She took a deep breath, and removed the ring. She held it between her fingers for a moment, thinking how odd it was that her finger suddenly felt so bare.

"Ready Jules?" Greg's voice interrupted her thoughts, causing her eyes to flash up from the ring to meet his gaze through the mirror.

"Yeah Boss," she replied, slipping the ring onto her other hand for the time being as she stood and turned to face him.

Greg paused. "You look beautiful, Jules." He saw her smile, and smiled back as he heard music begin on the other side of the door. "I think thats our cue. You ready for this?"

She grinned. "So ready."


	2. The Wait

__**A/N: Alright so I caved to reviewers and wrote Sam's POV of the timeframe in question in _Reflection_. Not sure how well I write from his perspective, but I suppose we'll soon see... **

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><p><em>There was the obvious - she was beautiful, smart, funny. She was confident, independent. She was a formidable competitor in the workplace from the start, a better cop by his estimate. She wouldn't cut him a break, didn't like the way he had gotten his spot on the team. She was a challenge on the shooting range, a challenge in negotiation training as she mocked his short temper. Add to that the fact that she wouldn't give him the time of day and he only wanted her more.<em>

He shifted where he stood, anxiously tugging at his cuffs.

_He went from just trying to prove himself to the team, but to trying to prove himself to her. It was more than a professional rivalry - actually it was decidedly unprofessional, it was against the rules. She loved rules, stuck to the rules; he figured she judged him for his flagrant disregard for such rules. He kept after her, though, finding every opportunity to talk to her. She seemed immune to his advances, but he kept trying. He'd wait._

He tapped his foot silently, the muscles in his legs needing some kind of activity to keep them from locking, keep him from passing out. He was thankful for his military training - at least he knew how to remain upright while on parade, which he did feel he was.

_His waiting paid off when she finally agreed to dinner with him. Just beer and a burrito. He'd told her that, told himself that, all the while hoping it would turn into more. She had granted him a chance and he more than ever set out to prove himself to her. Burritos was a good sign that he was making progress.  
><em>_A better sign was her invitation to coffee. This time she was in control. She drove, so she chose when the night ended. He was shocked when she suggested they enjoy their Timmies in the back of her jeep, in a quiet area where they could just hang out, talk. He was even more shocked the way she had managed to tease out of him a large portion of his life story. He wanted to kiss her then and there, but held off.  
><em>_He knew he needed to wait._

He scanned the faces in the crowd. They may have given in to tradition, but had managed to maintain some form of control over the guest list, keeping it a small affair. He wondered if she knew how many people 'small' really meant. He wondered what Nat had said to her that convinced her they should do it like this.

_The first time he thought he lost her was that time at the media tower. His heart dropped as she fell, and shot back up to his throat when he saw she was ok. He couldn't shake the doubt that she was actually ok, and barged into her locker room, just to make sure she was still there. Once in he couldn't resist, he had to feel that she was ok.  
><em>_Then came that day at the Royal York when she had, what he assumed, was the worst day of her career to that point. She was a mess, a shadow of herself. She lost her superhero shield for a brief moment and as much as he hated how broken she looked, he loved that she was finally human. Once again she was resisting him, refusing a ride home. He knew then that that particular wait was over. He couldn't take it anymore, had to kiss her. It was foolish, he knew, to do such a thing in a public place, steps away from the rest of their team. It could easily backfire, she could easily have smacked him, shot him even, but she didn't. Instead she embraced it, and the secrecy began._

His eyes wandered aimlessly though the room, taking in what he was seeing. People were talking, grinning. Kids were asking questions like _where is she? _

_Suddenly it was the next time he thought he lost her. The memory of that shot on the rooftop kept him up at night for weeks, and when sleep returned it was only with incessant nightmares. He was constantly visiting her in the hospital, walking her around the halls until she couldn't take it anymore. He was determined to have her back on the team. He couldn't stand the image of Donna walking into Jules' locker room.  
><em>_When the time finally came for her to take her place back on the team she chose the job over him. He knew she would, that there was nothing he could do to stop it. It broke his heart to hear her say it, but he knew it was coming. She lived for her job, and he knew it was part of why he loved her. So he didn't fight her on it. He was willing to wait. Wait for the pain to go away, or wait for her to change her mind._

He took a deep breath, looked at his shoes, made sure they were laced. He checked the time on his watch, it wouldn't be long now.

_He waited for what felt like a lifetime. He waited alone, aside from a small smattering of meaningless one night stands, for her to figure it out. He waited while she dated that paramedic, even helped save the man's life at one point.  
><em>_And suddenly she was done with the paramedic, the reasons for which she had only recently divulged to him._

From beside him Spike asked him something, to which he simply nodded his response. He didn't try to speak, afraid he might actually go to pieces if he did.

_The paramedic was gone from their lives, and suddenly they were facing Toth, who brought into question all the feelings they had been pushing down, brushing aside. She'd said at one point in it all that it wasn't going to go away, and, boy, was she ever right. The worst day of questioning behind him, and the potential end of team one ahead, he went home to his apartment that night determined to keep himself distracted from the events of the day. He found solace in some random article in a magazine, but was interrupted with the knock at the door.  
><em>_Her knock at his door. From then on they were sneaking around again, only difference was they both implicitly understood that there would be no choosing the job before them this time.  
><em>_Happily ever after was still a stretch, but they wouldn't make the same mistake this time._

He rubbed the back of his neck, tension building there from the nerves coursing through him. It was a tough wait, and their limited list still left at least forty people staring him down.

_They lasted through the secrecy, even survived the Boss' discovery of their stealthy affair, before he once again had to face the possibility of losing her.  
>Shrapnel, bleeding out, anthrax.<br>He knew that if ever there was something that would take her down, that was the combination. He also knew that he had a job to do, for the police force and for her. He had to uphold the code, save the other hostages first, but it was more than that. Not taking her first put him at risk to lose her forever, and yet he knew that if he broke the code, saved her first, she would never forgive him. She was SRU too after all, and it was her choice to be there. Her job. He had to respect that.  
><em>_Somehow through all the mess of that day and the week that followed, they survived, as a couple and as teammates. Somehow the secrecy disappeared and they were free._

_Then he waited some more. Waited for the right time, the right ring. Waited until he was ready, until she was ready. _

And now here they were.

His memories were pushed from his mind as the music began. He looked up and froze at the sight.

Definitely worth the wait.


	3. Grins

**a/n: Alright ****basic synopsis: post slow burn, Jam, and a Jammy reflection on the day's events.**

**CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SLOW BURN. last warning.**

Her face hurt. She raised her hand to her cheek. She wondered if maybe she was a little sun burnt, but more likely it was the result of the perma-smile that had plagued her the past few hours. It wasn't like she never smiled, or laughed, but she couldn't control it, and it was taking a toll on her muscles. She looked over to passenger's seat where he sat, grinning like an idiot. They hadn't said a word since leaving the picnic. They simply sat in silence, occasionally exchanging smiles when one of them caught the other staring at them.

When they finally pulled into her driveway she took the key out of the ignition, unbuckled her seatbelt, but didn't move from her seat. She simply turned to look at him.  
>Sam smiled. "What?"<br>She opened her mouth to say something but closed it when no words would come out.  
>He looked a little concerned, although his smile never faded. "Jules? You good?"<br>The smile grew on her face and her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was confused by her response. "Yeah… I just…" He nodded. He knew. Her eyebrows raised as she tilted her head slightly to the side with the realization. "I'm great."  
>Sam laughed, hopped out of her jeep, and moved to the other side of the vehicle to open the door for her. "Come here," he said, pulling her out of the car and into his embrace.<br>She let out a laugh of her own. She remembered a time, not so long ago, when she would have taken his head off for such an action. This time though, there was no secret to keep, no prying eyes to avoid. The feeling was overwhelming; ironically she felt almost as if their newfound freedom might crush her.  
>Finally finding words she moved back from him, only slightly, and said, "Come on, let's go inside."<p>

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><p>She rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin and hands on his chest. He smiled. "Good day, eh?"<br>"Mmhmm."  
>He ran a hand through her hair, an action that prompted her to close her eyes, taking in the feeling. "I think I might be reassessing my opinion of Toth."<br>She let out a hearty laugh. "I still think he's a bit of a prick… though I am glad he managed to pull his head out of his ass long enough to see we're capable of doing our jobs."  
>"True story."<br>She pushed herself up on her elbows so she was more facing him than looking up at him. "Think the boss will be okay? Things were weird today…"  
>"You mean how he walked out mid-call? He's had a rough week, Jules. I think Toth really got to him."<br>"I guess." She traced circles on his chest, while she decided how to change the subject. "Spike's wine didn't suck."  
>Sam gave a laugh, "I suppose… still more of beer guy. The dessert on the other hand…"<br>"Yeah, I saw you inhaling cupcakes," she laughed as she rolled her eyes.  
>"They were delicious! You can't deny that. Did you even try them or were you too busy fawning over Izzy?"<br>She gave him an indignant glare. "I tried them. And I was not _fawning_."  
>"If you say so," he smiled.<br>"I say so," she mumbled, laying her head on her chest so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye.  
>He grinned. He knew what she was doing. "Not that I'd blame you if you were… she's pretty damn cute."<br>She smiled to herself. They hadn't talked much about the whole having kids thing, but she definitely wanted them, and she was beginning to get the feeling that maybe he wanted them too


	4. The Paramedic Talk

**A/N: Alright, blame this one on ****SYuuri, who convinced me to write a follow up to the comment in _The Wait_ about how Sam found out about why Jules and Steve broke up. To be fair, it also made me want to know if he knows, because I'm fairly certain it was never addressed on the show... anyways, obviously I wrote my own version of how he found out. :) **

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><p>Jules slumped her purse in the chair near the door before taking a moment to stop in front of the mirror in the hallway. "You'd think I'd be used to bandages by now…" She rubbed at the mended scrape on her forehead.<p>

"Stop touching it! You'll open it back up and we'll have to go back to the damn hospital."

She turned around and gave Sam a look of judgment. She had just finished giving him that speech on the drive home. "Don't you dare use my own words on me again."

"Fine. How's your head doing? Still hurting?"

"Sam, my face made friends with the corner of a wall. What do you think?"

He laughed. "I still can't believe that guy got the jump on you like that."

"Yeah well, I can't believe you let them stab you." She gave him a stern glare, unable to believe he had just said that, and poked at his stitched up arm.

"Ow! Are you _trying_ to make us need to go back to the hospital?"

She rolled her eyes and proceeded further into the house, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge. "Just proving a point, Sam."

"Point being that you wouldn't mind going back to see _Steve_?"

She stopped dead and raised her eyebrows at him, as a dubious smile made its way across her face. "Why Sam Braddock, is that jealousy I hear?"

"No," he mumbled. Truth was he couldn't stand the ride to the hospital, and not simply because it was Steve wrapping his wounded arm in gauze. It was the fact that he and Jules seemed to pick up a conversation so easily, even though they had broken up ages before. He didn't know of any of his exes who he had such a civil relationship with post-break up. "I just find it weird how well you two still get along."

Jules rolled her eyes at his reddening face. "Honestly Sam, you have nothing to worry about. We get along because we had probably the most mutual breakup there is, and inevitable so it wasn't even all that surprising." She handed him a glass of water and one of the pain pills the hospital had provided him. "Take this."

He did as he was told - truth was his arm was still throbbing. "Mutual break up… how does _that_ work? Explain it to me. Why did you two break up? Not that I'm not thrilled that you did, because I am, I'm just… curious, I guess."

Jules sighed as she rinsed out his glass. "Its sort of a long story… basically we just wanted different things…"

"Wow. Thats vague. Maybe I should have just asked Ed about it."

"Sam, why do you even want to know? Its in the past."

"Oh well now I _have to_ know. Did he eat in bed? Did he not shower enough?"

She rolled her eyes. "No."

"Did he talk through movies? TV shows? Was he rude? Did he have no manners whenever you two went out for dinner. Oh! Did he keep his socks on when you two-"

She cut him off. "We never slept together, Sam, you know that."

"Hmmm… Did he call you by another girl's name? Was he a momma's boy? Did he have bad taste in music? Bad taste in food? Could he not cook?"

"_You_ can't cook and I haven't dumped you… yet."

"True. Jules I can keep guessing all day…" When she didn't respond he continued. "Did his house look like an episode of Hoarders? Did he call his cats his babies and make you-"

Jules sighed loudly; he really could go all day. She slammed her water bottle on the counter in front of where he had sat down. "Alright, fine. You really want to know? Here it is. That day when he got shot at the restaurant I went to see him at the hospital. He woke up, started talking about how he had been thinking about the big picture blah blah blah and how I was in his but he didn't think he was in mine and that was that. It was over. Now, what are we having for dinner?"

Sam looked confused. "Big picture? What do you mean he wasn't in yours?"

Had her head not been bandaged she would have banged it on the counter in front of her. He was not going to let this go, and she might actually have to spell it out for him. And boy when he found out… well, she wasn't sure how that would go. "I mean there was someone else I wanted in my big picture, and we both knew it."

His face contorted while he pieced things together. _Someone else… her big picture…she wanted…_"Oh," he said quietly. When she blushed and turned away it only confirmed what he had just realized. "Oh!" he repeated, only louder. "So _I'm_ the reason you two broke up?"

With her back to him she went about pulling out the necessary pots and pans to make their dinner. "Don't get too full of yourself, Braddock. It was just that I still had feelings for you not that I-"

He laughed. "Yeah ok Jules… come here." Moving behind her he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. "You know why I'm really happy that you two broke up?"

She rolled her eyes, still not willing to look at him. "Why?"

He grinned as he rested his chin on her crown. "Because I most definitely want _you_ in _my_ big picture."


	5. First Date

It had been a quiet day at HQ. The Boss was working on reports in the briefing room, Ed had taken Raf down to the range to get some practice in, and Spike was fussing over Babycakes' new parts. That left Sam & Jules, who had both opted to get some more work out time in.

Sam looked up from the stationary bike to where Jules was running on one of the treadmills, a hand on his chin, his arm leaning on the bike's handles. He gestured for her to take out her earbuds. "You know what I just realized?"

She gave him a skeptical raise of the brow. He'd been doing the chin scratching thing a lot lately, mostly because she had given him attitude about it one day and called him Sherlock. "What did you realize?"

"We never really went on a first date."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure we did. Now, a little professionalism? Or have you forgotten that we _are_ still at work?"

"No, we never did. We were too busy sneaking around for a real first date."

She raised an eyebrow. "You upset about that?"

"A little. I mean, really, years from now, when the grandkids ask me, 'grandpa, where did you take grandma on your first date?', all I get to respond with is 'well kids, we didn't have a first date. We just kind of hooked up and snuck around behind our boss's back for a few months'."

"_Hooked up?_"

"Well, what else can you call it? Besides, thats my point. There's no romance in that story… Come on, it doesn't bother you that we never did the awkward _oh em gee he touched my hand did he mean to touch my hand?_ thing?"

She snorted. "Did you seriously just say 'oh em gee'? What are you, twelve?" She adjusted the speed on the treadmill, slowing down slightly. "What difference does it make now anyway?"

He shrugged. "I guess technically it doesn't." He went back to the magazine he had been reading, and she popped her earbuds back in, and zoned out into her own world once again.

Suddenly he was standing in front of her treadmill, trying to get her attention.

"What now, Sam?"

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Um, I have dinner with you every night. We practically live together, remember?"

"Ok, well, will you go out to dinner with me tonight?"

She squinted, skeptically. "Ok… where are we going?"

He ignored her question. "Great, its a date." He grinned. "I'll pick you up at 7."

With that he left the room, still grinning like a fool as he passed Greg.

Greg raised a questioning eyebrow at Jules. "What's he so happy about?"

She gave a confused look. "I think he just asked me out…"

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><p>Unsure of where he was taking her, Jules opted to wear a sundress to dinner. She had just finished digging her heels out of the hall closet when her doorbell rang.<p>

"_Great, uninvited company,"_ she mumbled as she went to see who was at the door. She put on her friendliest door answering face, a look that quickly changed to confusion when she found Sam standing on her front porch. "Um, didn't I give you a key?"

"Hi. You look nice. Uh, these are for you," he said, raising a small bouquet of flowers to her.

"Uh… ok… thanks?" She took the flowers and smelled them, out of habit. "Just let me put them in water and we can go."

He nodded, and stood just inside the door to her house, shifting on the spot as he craned his neck to look around. "Nice place you've got here. Live here by yourself?"

She gave him an _are you stupid_ look. "What are you talking about?"

He frowned. "Geez Jules, its our first date. Play along."

She laughed, then mimicked his nervous first date small talk tone. "Yeah, I live here alone. I don't like to share."

"Way to scare the boys away, Callaghan. Anyways… do you rent or do you own?"

"Own. Is this a date or a financial planner meeting?"

"I like the colour in here, what is it? Santorini blue?"

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, its Santorini _sky_."

"Its nice. We should get going, we have reservations in half an hour."

She threw her heels on and followed him out the door, laughing when he made a big deal of opening her car door for her.

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><p>They had dinner at a small cafe, where Sam insisted they sit outside. It wasn't cold, though it was cooling off nicely as the heat of the late summer day disappeared. He looked all too pleased when Jules shivered slightly, and he got to offer her his jacket.<p>

"So, where'd you grow up?"

She smiled a little. He had kept up the first date act all night, and she had finally given in and started playing along to some extent. "Medicine Hat."

"Ah. Military family?"

"No actually, they're farmers." She laughed. "What about you? Where did you grow up? Stan, was it?"

"Sam. My dad is military, so I grew up all over the place. Lots of deserts."

The server set their bill on the table and Jules leaned forward slightly to see how much it was. Sam caught her actions and swooped the bill out of her reach. "I got this."

She smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps we should play first date more often. 'First date Sam' isn't nearly as cheap as the usual Sam."

He came out of character for a moment, "I am not-" but caught himself before he gave in to her teasing. "Lets go."

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><p>He insisted they go for a walk through a nearby park, where he convinced her to play along a little longer.<p>

"So you grew up on a farm… did you like, ride horses and stuff?" He grinned. He actually didn't know the answer this time - somehow the details of their childhoods had been glazed over when they talked about it.

"We had cows and goats, but no horses. We did have a big dog that I tried to ride when I was three… fell flat on my face."

Sam laughed.

"Not funny. I ended up with three stitches in my lip and my dad was pissed. My older brother had helped me onto the dog's back, and he grounded him for like a month."

"Ah, so you have a brother?"

She rolled her eyes at his return to familiar territory. "Four, actually. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

"Two sisters." He then proceeded to tell the story of how as a young boy he had once woken up to the two of them painting his toenails with their mother's nail polish, a story that Jules noted to congratulate Natalie on later.

"Anyways, we should be getting back. I have to work in the morning."

He laughed, happy that she was still playing along. "Same. Where do you work?"

"Way to sound like a creeper… I'm a police officer with the Strategic Response Unit."

"Oo a girl with a gun…"

She smirked. "That's sniper girl, to you."

"Sniper? Thats sexy."

"So I've heard," she said, rolling her eyes.

"So, a police officer. You must have some sexy male coworkers."

"Not really… they're mostly all middle aged bald guys, a comedic Italian, a cocky ex-military kid, and the new guy. Though I suppose the Italian is pretty cute." She grinned when he shot her an 'ouch' look.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at her house he once again opened the car door for her, before walking her to the door. Stopping on the porch, he resumed his first date awkward stance.<p>

"So, I had a good time."

"Me too," she smiled.

There was a forced awkward silence while she dug through her purse for her keys. When she found them she paused, looking at him, as he was in the way of the door.

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, which soon turned into another and another. Finally she broke away from him and unlocked the door. When he went to follow her inside, she stopped him, pushing him backwards with a hand on his chest.

"Now, where do you think _you're _going?"

"Um, inside…"

"Nuh uh. I don't sleep with guys on the first date." With that she went into her house, sliding the chain across the door behind her.

"Jules!" he called, still standing stunned on her front porch.

Her serious voice came from somewhere within the house. "Goodnight, Sam."

He called after her a few more times, and finally stopped when he saw the lights on the main floor shut off, then the window he recognized as her bedroom went dark as well.

He supposed he was responsible for this. He had started the 'first date' game, but she had been a far more worthy competitor than he had expected.

Callaghan 1, Braddock 0.


	6. The Pox

**A/N: Ok, this one is set a little further into the future than the other one shots in here so far... Not sure how far, I'll let you figure that out. As always, please review :)**

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><p>He entered the house silently, careful not to wake any of the sleeping residents. Slowly, he removed his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack in the closet - tired or not, his wife would not put up with them anywhere else. The lights were on in the kitchen, a habit that had begun after he full out fell over a toy arriving home one night. He bit his tongue and suppressed a curse word or two when his foot landed square on a hot wheels car. <em>Why bother having a toy box?<em> he thought to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small laugh from the previously unnoticed form sitting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Something funny?" he whispered.

"No." She smiled. "I saw the news… how are you doing?"

His face turned from amusement to a somber expression. "Just glad to be home."

She nodded, moving to greet him properly. With one arm around her, he deftly removed his jacket with the other and hung it in the closet.

"How is he?"

She sighed. "I just got him down. Fever broke about an hour ago, but he still hasn't eaten much. It'll be a few more days before the daycare will take him."

He nodded. Two working parents with a chicken pocked two year old was proving to be a challenge. Being on the same team, working the same shifts, had often been incredibly convenient. Except when it came time to stay home with their sick child. The Daycare they sent him to had a rule against sending him if he was sick, and the two had actually argued over who got to stay home with him. Jules had tried to argue that a sick baby needed it's momma, to which Sam had retorted that he was his son too and no sexist stereotype was going to keep him from looking after him. With the help of Ed, who had sorted through similar issues with Sophie and Izzy, they had agreed to take turns staying home with him. "I already told Sarge I wouldn't be in tomorrow." Then, with a smirk, he added, "he said to tell you not to be late."

She rolled her eyes and turned towards the stairs. "Coming to bed?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I just want to say goodnight first."

She gave him a look of warning. "So help me, Braddock, if you wake that child up…"

"Relax, I just wanna give him a kiss."

She shook her head and walked to their bedroom, knowing there was no use arguing with him.

He eased open the door to his son's room, careful not to let too much light in. As he moved closer to the crib he found his own eyes staring back at him. He silently cursed to himself - Jules was going to shoot him.

The weary child scrunched his face. "Daddy?" He might have had his father's blue eyes, but that sleepy expression certainly belonged to his mother.

"Shhh buddy, just came to say goodnight." He kissed his son's head as his eyes drifted shut. With a whisper of 'I love you', he silently left the room.

"I told you you would wake him up." Jules looked smug from her position on their bed.

When he gave her a _how did you know_ sort of look, she simply gestured towards the baby monitor. "He was awake when I got there," he defended.

"Uh huh."

"Uh huh. Anyways, he's asleep now, and isn't that what matters?"

"Not surprising, he's probably tired from all the crying he did today. I on the other hand…" She wiggled an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, I'm kind of tired… But I suppose I could… for you…"

She smirked. "Thats mighty big of you."

"It is. Just try to remember that you have to be up early tomorrow," he teased.


	7. Chili Con Fiasco

"Wow, you are a real treat today."

"Love you too, Sam," she responded sarcastically.

"Jules, you called me a bumbling moron for not knowing the difference between spinach and some other lettuce crap."

"Its not rocket science," she snarled.

"Wow. Like I said, a real treat. What is it like your time of the month or something?"

"God Sam! You can't just blame everything on _that_! Did you ever think that maybe you were just an ass today?" She practically threw the bowl of chili at him. "Eat your damn dinner," she muttered, helping herself to a generous spoonful of her own bowl of chili.

He sighed - she had been bitching at him all day. _Maybe after dinner I'll pretend we forgot something at the store and just go over to Spike's for a little while and- sweet Jesus, is she trying to kill me?_ He had followed her lead and helped himself to a large mouthful of his dinner, only to find it was basically hot pepper juice. Not wanting to anger her any further, he tried to stifle back the cough rising in his chest. He failed, miserably, and his face turned red as he fought for breath among the peppers, his eyes tearing.

"What's wrong?"

He grabbed the milk he had been drinking, straight from the carton just to piss her off, and took a few large gulps. "Geez Jules that's some hot chili!"

She crinkled her nose. "Its the same chili I always make…"

He shook with a few more coughs, trying to figure out how to say it without earning a night on the couch. "Its like licking fire. Seriously, did you not measure what you were putting in or something?"

"I put the same things in as I always do," she snarled, a frown on her face. She took another generous mouthful, this time from his bowl, just to double check. "Tastes fine to me. I might have put a few extra peppers in because they weren't giving off enough heat, but other than that…"

He pushed the bowl away, the spicy scent burning his nostrils. "I'm sorry, but I can't eat this. Honestly, it could be used for torture."

She stared at him, her hurt evident by the tears gathering in her eyes. She couldn't believe he was insulting her like that. It was a little hot, sure, but he was acting like she had dropped Bleach on his plate. She picked up his bowl and dumped the food down the drain. "Fine, you know what? I'm done with this conversation. Make your own damn dinner, see if I care." With that she took her bowl with her upstairs, stomping her feet every step of the way until he heard the bedroom door slam shut.

His eyes had shot wide open at the sight of her watery eyes, but his shock at the image of her crying prevented him from saying anything productive. He sighed. It was definitely the couch tonight. In all the time they'd been together she'd never not let him into the bed, but he figured there was a first time for everything. Scanning the kitchen he grabbed a bun with some butter and went to eat it on the couch while he watched the news. Not that he didn't already know what the top story would be - he _was_ there, after all - but he figured watching the wrecks of the day on the news was better than the current wreck in his own home.

Upstairs, Jules slumped down on their bed. _Great. My husband can't stand my cooking. I'm like a sad fifties housewife. Just great._ She took another mouthful of chili. _This is some good food!_ She sniffled, wiping a tear from her cheek. _As if I'm crying. This is just pathetic. I'm sitting on my bed, alone, literally crying in my soup. Ok, fine, its chili, but same difference._

She shifted on the bed, cuddling into his pillow. Today had been an absolute mess, and all she really wanted was him next to her. She had been lead negotiator, and ultimately Ed had taken the shot when the subject raised his gun at Jules. She'd forced herself to be professional in the debrief, fighting the urge to spew blame at every one of her teammates. Then, as if _he_ had been the one to take the shot, she'd let Sam have it the entire drive home, and then the entire 2 hour walk through the grocery store while she constantly backtracked because she missed something. He had it coming though - constantly saying they didn't need _this_, already had _that_. Then he told her she was _a real treat_, even accused her of poisoning him. That bastard had even had the nerve to ask if she was -

She sat straight up on the bed.

TBC

**A/N: Yeah, Yeah… TBC doesn't quite fit with the one shots, I know, but I'll pick it up in a few chapters… Like I said, these will be in no particular order. **


	8. Return to Santorini

**A/N: Alright, just a short one... painfully so... for which I apologize...its more of a snippet than a one-shot**

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><p>"What about <em>golden honey<em>?"

"Its not a breakfast cereal. What about _toasted wheat_?"

"Oh, because that doesn't sound like a breakfast cereal?" She tossed yet another paint sample in the trashcan in front of them. "_Scarlet hearts_?"

"Too dark. A little creepy, actually. Reminds me of blood." He sighed, milling through the pile they had spread out on the floor. They were moving into their new home, _their_ first home, when his apartment lease was up in a week and had planned on having all the major rooms painted before doing so. They were ahead of schedule, with the exception of one room. "_Peppermint kiss_?"

She snorted. "A.K.A. hospital green. There is no way we are painting our bedroom hospital green" She pulled another at random from the pile. "_Lively violet_."

"Purple? No. I can't sleep in a _purple_ room. What about _Maple Leaf blue_?"

"Hell, no. Sam, I'm an Alberta girl, and neither of those teams are the Leafs. Besides, you aren't a leafs fan either, last I checked."

He shrugged. "Meh, it was in the pile. _Sugar_?"

She turned to see him holding a faded pink colour. "So purple isn't ok but pink is? No. No, thank you."

Somewhere between _harvest sunlight_ and _malted liqueur_ they had laid down on the floor, Jules with her head in Sam's lap as he picked samples off the floor and showed them to her.

"This is useless," she whined. "We're never going to find a colour we both like."

He nodded. "Thats what it looks like. And now we're only left with two options. One is _chocolate covered cherry_..." He held a mix of red and brown up for her to see.

"That's the ugliest shade of brown I've ever seen. Reminds me of what happened when I forgot my valentine's chocolates in the car. What's the other one?"

He smirked. "_Santorini sky_."

She pursed her lips, a half smile appearing. "Well… that has some better memories associated with it…"

He grinned and nodded his approval. "Santorini blue it is."

"For the hundredth time, Sam, its Santorini_ sky_."


	9. To know, or Not to know

The team sat in the briefing room, taking a break from their painfully slow day.

Greg rubbed his head. "Ok, so let me get this straight: Jules knows, but you have no idea?"

Sam nodded. "That's right."

"Oh man, this must be killing you," Ed smirked.

"Not really. Some of us," he shot Jules an evil glare, "have self control. Some of us like surprises."

Jules rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Now that I know, I can shop properly."

Spike nodded a little, collecting his thoughts about the conversation. Tilting his head slightly to the side he turned to Jules. "Can I know?"

"Sure!" Jules jumped at the chance to tell someone.

Sam's jaw dropped. "What? No! Jules, you can't tell him."

She gave him an indignant glare. "Oh? And why can't I?"

"Because. Because Spike can't know before I do. Thats just… _weird_."

"Well that was your choice." Jules said simply.

"Yeah. Your choice," Spike quipped, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jules smirked. "I don't see what difference it makes anyways, Sarge already knows."

Sam's head spun around to face his boss. "Excuse me? And when did _you _find out?"

"She told me while you were getting your coffee."

He turned back to face Jules. "Jules, why?"

She shrugged. "He wanted to know." She then turned to Spike, leading him out of the room so that she could fill him in.

When they returned, Spike was grinning like a fool. "Oh man, that…" he paused in a conscious effort to use a gender neutral pronoun, "…baby is going to be so much fun!"

Sam shook his head at Jules. "You are pure evil, you know that? Pure. Evil. You better hope that child takes after me and not you."

Jules rolled her eyes. "Yeah, ok Sam. Just stay out of the downstairs closet - it will soon be full of _very_ gender specific clothing. Now, if you'll excuse me, its snack time." Then, before anyone could comment she added, "again." With that she got up and left the briefing room.

Sam stewed for a few moments before slamming his hands down on the table in front of him. "Ok. Fine. I give in. Spike, Sarge, what is it?"

Greg just shook his head while Spike grinned. "Nuh uh, Samtastic."

"Nuh uh?"

"Nuh uh. We're both under strict orders not to tell you. It was _your_ choice not to know, remember?"

"I thought we were friends…"

"Playing the friend card, Sam? Really? You _do_ realize we've known Jules longer, right?"

Sam rubbed his face with both hands and lowered his head onto the table. These next few months could be what killed him


	10. Chili Con Fiasco  Part Two

_**Previously...**_

_...she'd let Sam have it the entire drive home, and then the entire 2 hour walk through the grocery store while she constantly backtracked because she missed something. He had it coming though - constantly saying they didn't need this, already had that. Then he told her she was a real treat, even accused her of poisoning him. That bastard had even had the nerve to ask if she was - _

_She sat straight up on the bed._

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><p>Wondering if the coast was clear, Sam walked towards the stairs, intent on making up with his cranky wife. He wondered why, considering how snippy she'd been with him that day, but figured it was because he loved her and he hated it when they fought. He had barely reached the landing when she came barrelling down the stairs towards him, shoving him out of her way as she did so.<p>

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

She shook off his question as she made her way to the kitchen, flipping frantically through the calendar on the wall.

_1 - Evening shifts  
><em>_2 - Day shifts, 3 days off, camping trip  
><em>_3 -  
><em>_4 - Night shifts, overtime, no social lives,  
><em>_5 -  
><em>_6 - dinner with Sam's parents, Natalie's birthday,  
><em>_7 - babysat Izzy while Ed & Sophie took Clark to look at colleges  
><em>_8…_

"Oh my god," she whispered, shaking slightly.

Sam, who had been watching from the corner in a state of confusion, sure she had lost her mind, finally opened his mouth. "Jules? What's going on?"

"I'm late."

He raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head in confusion. "For…?" He waited for her to continue.

Her eyelids drooped as she gave him the _you idiot_ look. "For a date, dumbass. What do you think?"

He just shook his head some more out of confusion. "Look, Jules, it's been a really long day and I'm not really in the mood for a game of trivia. Is there some kind of scheduling conflict I don't know about?"

She rolled her eyes. "I love you Sam, but sometimes, I worry that you may have taken a few too many hits to the head in the field." When he continued to stare at her in confusion she spelled it out for him. "Sam, I'm late for my period."

He cringed at the word _period_. She had once, and only once, begged him to stop to buy her some tampons on his way home and it was the most terrifying shopping trip of his life. Clueless to what she was getting at he flopped his arms at his sides. "Ok, I'm clearly missing something here. Can you just stop being all cryptic, please?"

She sighed, exhaling upwards at her bangs. "Can you just drive me to the drug store? I need to buy a test and I'm shaking too much to drive."

She gathered that something had clicked in him at the word _test_ because suddenly his mouth was open and his eyes were so wide she thought they might pop out cartoon-style in a moment.

"Sam? Sam, snap out of it. It's just a drive to the store. No big, just a drive to the store."

He nodded. "Right, because this, uh, that, you've… _its_ … done this… been… _late..._ before... right?"

_Not since it started when I was thirteen._ "Sure, yeah. All the time."

They drove to the store in silence, and, against his protests, she had insisted he come in with her. They stood, bewildered, in the family planning aisle for an unknown amount of time, before simply deciding to buy three, each of a different brand, thinking they might need second and third opinions. Thankfully, the kid at the counter had no interest in what they were buying, and therefore did not comment.

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><p>"Just do it."<p>

"What if I don't do it properly?"

"How many ways are there to pee on a stick? See, it says right here…" he pointed to the directions that had come in the carton.

"Sam, I swear, if you read that thing to me one more time…"

"Then just do it!"

"Fine. Get out."

"What?"

"Well I'm not about to pee in front of you. Thats gross."

"We're married…"

"And? Doesn't mean we need to see each other do _that_."

He rolled his eyes and reluctantly left the room, stopping just before she closed the door. "You'll let me back in after you pee, right?"

"Yes. Now, out!"

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><p>She sat on the closed toilet seat as he sat on the adjacent bath tub, both fidgeting, unsure if they wanted to look at each other. They had set nearly every timer they had in the house, and were now waiting, impatiently, for the chorus of dings.<p>

"So…"

"So…"

"You might not be…"

"Right…"

"But if you were… that'd be alright."

She nodded.

"Jules?"

"Yeah?"

"It's never been late before, has it?"

She sighed. "Not unless late means like clockwork."

He nodded, taking in her answer. "So its probably…"

"Yep." She watched carefully as a small smile threatened the corners of her husband's mouth. It took her a few seconds to realize it mirrored her own expression.

The moment was interrupted by the explosion of sounds from both of their cell phones, work and personal, along with the egg timer from the kitchen.

They both took a deep breath and stood side by side at the counter, interpreting the results.

As they deciphered the last test Sam turned to face Jules. "I guess that settles it."

A nod. "Guess so."

They both grinned.


	11. The Talk

**A/N: Ok, so I'll be honest here. This one is not-so-loosely-based on a true story, it happened to a girl I work with fairly recently. I did, however, put my own spin on it, and added some stuff to make it... Jammy, I suppose.**

**Also, I feel I should share my frustration about something - There MAY be a third instalment of chili con fiasco coming up as my brain has been having issues leaving that particular incident alone... Its bugging me because this was definitely supposed to be one shots... that said, this story is called 'Memories', so I suppose you guys might just have to take them as they come...**

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><p>"Mom, is it true that you have to have <em>sex<em> to have a baby?"

The colour drained from Jules' face as her eyes shot up to meet her daughter's gaze through the rear view mirror.

"Yeah Mom, is it true? Is it true?" Sam teased, smirking from the passenger's seat.

"Uhm…" Jules took a moment to figure out how to deal with her question. "Well, let me ask you this: do you know what the word _sex_ means?"

"Well, no."

"Then yes. Also, I don't think it's a word an eight year old should be using, so, until you know what the word means, I don't think its a word you should say anymore."

"Ok."

Jules breathed a sigh of relief as the little girl put her headphones on and went back to her colouring book, seemingly satisfied with the answer she'd been given.

"Good answer," Sam whispered. "Props on the good parenting," he added, offering his fist for her to bump.

She raised an eyebrow at his outdated gesture, but couldn't leave him hanging.

"Where does she get these things?" Sam asked in horror. The idea of his only daughter knowing these things terrified him.

"School. They sent that letter home, remember? You flipped out, tried to find a reason to arrest her teacher…"

He nodded, then turned to look at their son sleeping in the back seat. "How come he never asked these things?"

Jules just shook her head. "Girls are different. You tell them freaky stuff's going to happen to their bodies and they want answers A.S.A.P."

Sam sighed. "Well, at least you got off easy with that question. Somehow I don't think that answer will fly when he starts asking questions."

Jules snorted. "Whatever Sam, its easier for you guys."

"How's that now?"

"All you have to do is buy him a box of condoms and tell him to take care of himself."

"What's a condom?"

The colour drained from both their faces this time, as they realized their son had woken up and started listening to their conversation.

"Yeah Dad, what's that?" Jules mocked his earlier tone.

He shook his head. Suddenly he wished they had chosen somewhere closer for their annual family camping trips.


	12. Interrupted

**A/N: Alrighty this is set sometime during season 4, when Sam & Jules are still a secret. The first few paragraphs are fairly suggestive though not overly explicit, so I'm fairly certain it doesn't cross the line from T to M... I promise it's just a lead in to something less questionable. That said, if it makes anyone uncomfortable, well, I warned you.**

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><p>He trailed kisses up her jaw to where it met her ear, then back down via the side of her neck. She tilted her head away, successfully granting him more access. He followed the trail back up to meet her lips, where suddenly she realized she wasn't satisfied with their current make-out session. He had already gotten her out of her shirt, pants, and bra, and she was tired of being the only exposed party.<p>

She pushed him away, just long enough to turn him around and shove him backwards so that he was pinned between her and the kitchen counter. She considered it a sort of leverage, putting her in control.

He laughed. "Why such a rush, Constable Callaghan?"

She rolled her eyes - he'd called her that a few times recently, and though she didn't hate it she wasn't nearly as amused by it as he seemed to be. In one fluid movement she'd freed him of his belt, and was onto his t-shirt. The shirt was off, and she was set to tackle the button on his jeans when suddenly his clothing wasn't the problem anymore. There was a knock on the door, loud enough to hear, soft enough for them to wonder if maybe they imagined it.

No such luck. Sam cursed through his teeth as a second knock reverberated through his apartment. He took a deep breath, and moved slowly, silently, to the door. He hoped that if he checked the peephole he'd find it was just some kid from the building playing nicky-nicky-nine-door. Sadly, that hope died when his eyes fell on the bald head of his team leader.

"Shit," he muttered, just a little too loud.

"Sam?"

Jules' eyes shot wide as she heard the voice and instantly knew what he had seen, why he had sworn.

"Sam, we heard you, we know you're home. Now, you've got about 1 minute until Wordy goes SRU on your door."

_Fuck_, Jules mouthed. If they knew she was there, or more accurately, what she was _doing_ there, that would be it. That would be the end of team one as she knew it, of life as she knew it.

"Sam, lets go!" Wordy's impatient voice came from the hallway.

Sam shot Jules a terrified glare, which she returned.

"Jesus Sam, you didn't forget guys night _again_ did you?"

Sam's eyes widened and he hit his head as Jules mouthed '_are you freaking kidding me?'_

"Hide," he whispered breathlessly, to which Jules responded with a sarcastic look that begged him to tell her what the hell her other option was.

He tossed her jeans at her as she scrambled to find and collect the rest of her clothing.

"Thirty seconds! Braddock, get your ass out here!"

Sam hurried Jules into his room, silently wishing it was farther from the entrance to the apartment. When she slowed her run like pace he gave her a slight shove.

"Hurry up."

"I'm trying it's just…where's my bra?"

He took a quick scan around the room, couldn't see it and told her not to worry about it as he pushed her further into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Ten, nine, eight…"

Jules carefully settled into a comfortable position near the wall in Sam's room, determined to hear as much of the following conversation as physically possible. She sat on the floor, making sure not to shift positions as it would surely set off his overly creeky floors.

Sam pulled on his shirt, still in the process of pulling it down as he opened the door.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

Ed, Wordy, and Spike glared at him from the hallway, each with a raised eyebrow and peeved expression on their face.

"Took you long enough to answer," Ed commented, pushing past him as he let himself into the apartment.

Sam followed, still searching the room for Jules' missing garment.

Wordy gave a nod. "Seriously. What's the deal, Sam? Too cool for us?"

"No I just… I was going to um…"

Spike shook his head. "Good story. Ready to go?"

Sam sighed. "I don't think I can make it. I've got a ton of laundry to do and…"

It had been a rough day at work and Sam was trying to cancel plans for the second time that week, leading the team to think that he might have been withdrawing from social events for less than positive reasons. "Ok, so we'll hang out here," Ed taunted, grabbing a round of beers from the fridge.

In the next room Jules all but groaned. _Good luck getting out of that hole, Sam._

Sam's pulse quickened as he fought the urge to throw them out. He had to do it carefully, or it would raise suspicion. He looked around the room, hoping something would provoke an idea that would lead to a better excuse. As his eyes fell on the purple fabric of Jules' bra on the floor beside the couch, he moved quickly to kick it underneath before it was noticed.

"Listen guys, I'm really sorry," Sam began. "I just… I sort of…"

Jules rolled her eyes - for a cop he sure wasn't doing so great at thinking on his feet. She grimaced as a cramp took hold of her leg, and resisted the urge to shift positions. _Come on Sam, think!_

"I have something I have to do," was all he could come up with.

Spike nodded. "Ok, well, we're here now, need any help?"

Sam nearly snorted back a laugh - _If Spike only knew what he was saying…_ "No, no, I can take care of it myself… I'm sorry but I don't think tonight is going to work. How about tomorrow night?"

Jules relaxed a little. _Thats good Sam, change the plans, say what they want to hear just get them the hell out of here…_

Ed was about to lecture at him about team morale and the importance of team bonding when he heard the floor on the other side of the apartment creek.

Jules' eyes shot wide and she froze on the spot as the floor creaked. She had only meant to move her cramping leg a few millimetres, but that minor shifting of weight had somehow still managed to create the world's loudest sound.

Three intrigued heads turned to face the direction the sound had come from, then back to look at Sam.

"What was that?" Ed demanded.

Wordy raised an eyebrow. "Is someone else here?"

"Samtastic has a _date_!" Spike announced.

Then the true inquisition began.

"What's her name?"

"Is she hot?"

"Where'd you find her?"

"Man, you pick up fast, we've only been off shift a little over an hour!"

"Can we meet her?"

Jules rolled her eyes. She had once thought that maybe the guys only acted like _that_ while she was around, censoring what they really wanted to say because she was a girl. As it turned out, they were just as dorky when she wasn't there, or at least when they didn't know she was.

Sam's face had paled to near translucent at the sound. He had been searching for something to say, some explanation other than the truth. Suddenly he wished he had a cat to blame it on, or maybe a fish that liked to jump out of it's bowl… then it dawned on him. _This_ was his way out. "Oh um… I don't think thats a good idea… she's kind of… shy…not big on meeting new people…"

His three teammates smirked, stared him down.

"Anyways, I should be getting back to…uhm… you know…" He threw in a wink for good measure. "Goose tomorrow night. I'll buy the first round. I promise I won't cancel this time."

The three exchanged looks before agreeing to Sam's proposal. As they walked out they each tried to have the last word, telling him he'd have to tell them about the girl the next night, not to be late for work, and that maybe he should invest in a sock for the door. Sam watched from the doorway as they got into the elevator, and waited until he heard the _ding_ that would tell him the door had closed.

When he was sure they were gone, he closed the door behind him and went to his bedroom to give Jules the all clear. He found her, sitting cross legged on the floor, a hand clapped over her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

"Well, that went well. What'd you decide to tap dance in here?"

She laughed. "I'm so sorry, my leg cramped up and I just couldn't sit still any longer."

He gave her a slightly aggravated glare. "Yeah, well, now I can't see you tomorrow night. Hope you're happy about that."

She made an overly dramatic pouty face, getting up from her spot on the floor to stand in front of him. "I'm not, but I think I might be able to make it up to you…"


	13. Ambient Noise

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really. You worry too much. I can handle a few hours alone with my son."

"Are you sure? Because I can call Natalie and cancel…"

Sam shook his head. "You stay home alone with him everyday, I think I can handle one afternoon. Besides, he's barely two months old, how much trouble could he be?"

Jules raised her eyebrows. She may have had doubts about how well she could handle the time away from her son, but Sam had basically just challenged her to do it. "Alright, fine. But if you need anything, anything happens, you call me, ok?"

"Yeah yeah I know your number. Go. Shop, have dinner with my sister, do whatever women do."

She sighed, and turned her attention to the baby in Sam's arms. "You be good for Daddy, ok? He has no idea what he's getting himself into so go easy on him." She kissed him on the head and looked back up at Sam. "I should be back around 8. If you get bored theres laundry you can do," she smirked. "Oh, and before he goes to sleep remember to-"

"Jules, I've put him to bed before, I've fed him before, I can do this. Go."

* * *

><p>"Anyways, so I'm not entirely sure what's going on but I'm fairly certain he's planning something I don't know about. Not sure if its a good thing or not, its hard to tell with him, you know? Jules?" Natalie waved a hand in front of her sister-in-law's face.<p>

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Have you asked him about it?"

"No. Are you ok? You're really quiet."

Jules sighed, leaned back in her chair. "Yeah I'm just… I'm a little nervous for Sam. The baby is going through this nice little scream bloody murder and not want to sleep phase and I'm not sure Sam realizes what he's in for."

"You want to call him?"

"Yeah. But I can't. On the off chance that he's actually gotten him to sleep do you know how much it would suck if the phone ringing woke him up? Besides," she gestured to the diagram of a phone crossed out on the wall, "no cell phones in the spa, remember?"

Natalie giggled a little, garnering a filthy glare from the woman doing her manicure. "Ok, well I'm sure Sammy can handle it. If not, he'll call."

* * *

><p>Sam paced back and forth, screaming baby in his arms. <em>This is not good… not good… I need… no, I can't call Jules… I told her I could do this… I can…<em>

"Hello?"

He jolted as he heard her voice on the other end of the phone. He'd been so carried away he hadn't realized he'd actually pressed send.

"Sam?"

"Oh, hey Jules, How's your day going?"

"Fine… We're just finishing up dinner so I'll be home soon… What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why would something be wrong?" He replied, all too quickly.

"You called…"

He sighed. "Right, um, I'm sorry Jules I just can't get him to sleep. I've tried everything and it's just… the kid hates me."

Jules laughed on the other end of the phone. "He doesn't hate you. He's just going through a phase."

Sam looked at the screaming child sympathetically, wishing for some sign of what to do. "Yeah, well I think I'm going through a crappy father phase."

"No, you're not. Did you try-"

"I've tried everything. I've tried rocking him, tried putting him in his bouncy chair, tried giving him a bath thinking it might help him relax but it didn't, I even tried singing to him…"

"_You _sang?"

"Yeah and it just made him cry more."

Curiosity got the better of Jules. "What'd you sing?"

"_November Rain_?"

"You sang _Guns N' Roses_ to a two month old? Honestly Sam…"

"It was the first thing that came to mind! It was on the radio when I got up this morning…"

Jules laughed. "Hmm… well did you try-"

"Whatever you're going to say the answer is yes. I changed him, tried feeding him but he wasn't hungry. I tried letting him cry it out in his crib but that sucked so I caved and went to pick him up. I put him in his stroller and walked him up and down the hallway. I tried sitting still with him thinking maybe doing nothing was the key. I put him in his car seat and drove around the block a few times - the jeep needs gas by the way - and that didn't work either."

"Good to know… Alright well our bill just got here so I'll be there soon. Just try to relax, he's not going to until you do."

Sam rolled his eyes - Jules always made things sound so simple when they clearly weren't.

He set his phone down and continued trying to console his crying baby.

* * *

><p>When Jules arrived home she as shocked to find silence in the house. She checked the nursery first, and found the crib empty. She walked across the hall to the master bedroom, again empty. "Sam?" she whispered, not wanting to wake the baby. She continued to search the house room by room, until she heard noises coming from the basement laundry room.<p>

There she found her husband, lying on the floor asleep, sleeping baby on his chest. She sat down on the floor beside them.

"Sam?" she whispered. "Sam, what are you doing?"

Sam slowly woke up, conscious of the infant on his chest. "You're back."

"I am. Why are you two on the floor?"

He nodded towards the washer and dryer. "He likes the sounds. They put him right to sleep."

Jules looked at the machines, which were both running, and smiled. "You did laundry."


	14. The Morning After

**A/N: Ok, this comes out of a request from SYuuri. Its supposed to be the morning immediately following Personal Effects. In my mind there are about a billion ways that morning could have gone, so I'm not entirely satisfied with this... it was meant to be sweet with some amusing stuff, and to me it ended up sounding dopey. That's not to say I don't like this way, I just think I might need to write another one shot of the same damn situation at some point. But not right now, because I'm so damn tired and I have to read a case that's about a gazillion pages long for my class tonight (which is in like 4 hours, 3 of which are spent in another class). Anyways, I'm off to watch Blade Runner for the second time this year (AS IT IS REQUIRED IN TWO OF MY CLASSES). I'll probably fall asleep... or just write more of Changes which is mildly pissing me off at the moment. **

**So, that's my rant of the day, and here's the Morning After.**

* * *

><p>Sam squinted as he checked the time on his phone, his eyes still adjusting to the light coming off the screen. It was a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off, so he took a preemptive strike and shut it off. He rolled over and there she was. He'd slept so well, for the first time in what felt like forever, that he had nearly forgotten about the previous day.<p>

Jules was still fast asleep, practically face down in her pillow - some things never changed. He wondered for a moment how she breathed with her face buried in the pillow like that. He knew from experience that when she wasn't smothering herself with the pillow she would push her face between his shoulder and the mattress, an arm draped over him so tightly he worried she might strangle him in his sleep. He smiled to himself as he thought of her morbid sleeping habits.

He propped himself up on an elbow, watching her. Her hair dropped over her face so that he could only really see from her chin up to her lips, and the very tip of her nose. He watched for a while as her hair danced under her breath; for some reason it amused him. Finally, he couldn't resist. He wanted to see more of her face so he started to push the stray hairs away from her face, carefully tucking them behind her ear.

As he did so she began to stir, and he hissed his out a breath of regret, hoping she would just go right back to sleep. Instead, her nose crinkled, she licked her lips, and her eyes slowly opened. "Hi," she mumbled with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't meant to wake you."

"Its ok," she told him, pushing her pillow closer to his. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long. How did you sleep?"

She grinned. "Good. Really good."

"Thats good." He lowered himself back down so his head was on the pillow, his face just inches away from hers.

"I missed you," she whispered, grabbing onto his hand.

He smiled. "I missed you too." He shifted a little closer to her, and placed a kiss on her cheek. He smiled, and thought for a moment. "Jules?"

She nodded. "I meant what I said."

_There's no place I'd rather be._

It was all that needed to be said to convince them both that they would be ok, that they would make it out of whatever mess they were getting themselves into.

They'd had that discussion at some point the previous night, amongst other various nighttime activities. They'd come to an agreement about the status of their relationship - under the high school dictionary definition they were _on again_, although they both agreed they weren't interested in an _off again_. Then they had addressed the issue of the team, probation, their jobs. He pointed out that their secret relationship had come out last time and it was only a matter of time before it happened again. Then, in a moment that surprised them both, she told him she didn't care. She told him they'd cross that bridge when they came to it, together. She told him that when the time came that one of them had to be reassigned, or flat out let go, they would figure it out. And he agreed.

She smirked. "You still snore."

"And you still try to suffocate yourself with your pillow."

She laughed, "some things never change."

He smiled. "You talked in your sleep last night."

She eyed him skeptically. "No way. I don't do that."

"Yes, yes you do."

She eyed him some more, then gave in. "What did I say this time?"

"You started out mumbling something, and I asked what you were talking about because I honestly didn't think you'd fall asleep that quickly after… anyways, so I asked and you yelled at me."

"I yelled?"

"Well, maybe not yelled, but you got a little more forceful with your words. You said 'No! Stuffed. Animal. Babies!' "

"What?"

"Yep."

"Oh great…" she rolled her eyes.

He laughed. "Yep. What were you dreaming about anyways?"

She shrugged. "I don't remember."

She rolled onto her back so that she was staring at the ceiling. She vaguely remembered a dream she had had… thankfully Sam only understood the last part of what she said. Otherwise, considering they had been back together for less than 24 hours, it would have totally freaked him out.


	15. Rock, Paper, Scissors!

**A/N: Ok so the inspiration for this one came from a commercial I just saw for a new lottery ticket. Weird, right?**

**Also, in case anyone is wondering, I have one more oneshot to shoot out for this story, then I'll do the next chapter for Changes. Should all be up by tomorrow morning. **

* * *

><p>Greg's voice came through loud and clear on their comms. "Alright, Sam, Jules! You guys just sit tight in there, we'll have you out in no time."<p>

Jules rolled her eyes, pressed on her earpiece. "Where do you think we're going? You said yourself we're trapped."

Sam snickered to himself.

"Fair enough," Greg laughed. "The rest of the team is just finishing up clearing the rest of the house, then we'll be able to get the fire department in here to start clearing the place out."

Jules sunk down to sit against the one intact wall that remained. There had been some sort of explosion while they were clearing the crawlspace, which left her and Sam trapped.

"So…"

"So…guess we got some time to kill."

Sam nodded. "Alright, truth or dare?"

Jules cocked an eyebrow. "You do realize we're working here, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Not really. I mean, we're getting paid, but we're really not helping any. Plus, the comms aren't open so it's not like this is going on the transcript. Come on, truth or dare?"

"No way. I hate that game."

"Fine," Sam sighed. "What game do you not hate?"

She scratched her chin in mock contemplation. "Monopoly."

"Oh good. And I'm guessing you keep the board in the pockets of your tac vest? Come on! Please."

"Why can't we just sit here? Relax? Wait to be rescued?"

"Because."

"Because, why?"

"Because we've been in here for 17 minutes and I'm not ok with that."

Jules stopped, stared at him in shock. "Oh my gosh… are you claustrophobic?"

Sam sat up a little straighter. "No. A phobia is an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something. What I have is a very natural, highly logical, concern about the fact that we're trapped in a room where not even _you_ can stand up without hitting your head. Now, truth or dare?"

Jules smirked. "You memorized that definition, didn't you?"

"Jules…" he warned.

"Alright fine, but did you really have to poke fun at my height?"

"No. And its a lack there of. Now, truth or dare?"

"Still not playing that. How about rock paper scissors?"

Sam nodded, and they turned so that they were facing each other, cross legged knees touching only slightly.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors!"

The game went on, Jules consistently picking Paper, Sam alternating between Rock and Scissors, afraid she might change her pattern.

"Geez Jules you do realize there are other options, right?"

Jules just laughed as once again paper beat rock. Sam groaned, and she continued her pattern. When he gave up and just started constantly picking Rock, he expected her to yell at him for letting her win. Instead she just smiled a little bigger.

Sam tilted his head, looked at her questioningly. As paper once again crinkled rock, and her hand grabbed his to show it, he slowly began to smile. "You know Jules, I'm beginning to think you just want to hold my hand."

Her somewhat smug smile changed to a sly one as she narrowed her eyes. "So what if I do?"


	16. Her Family

**A/N: Gah, alright. I've been putting off addressing this in too much detail for a long time, in this story and in others. I don't particularly enjoy making up people's pasts, or dealing with characters we've never actually been introduced to, but this damn thing distracted me all through class tonight, to the point where my prof asked if I was alright because I looked 'bewildered' (a word, btw, which sounds particularly awesome with his new zealand accent). So... here's one thats pretty centred on Jules, but its got Jammy undertones and implications...**

* * *

><p>By the time she had finished packing the room was bare and the already oversized suitcase was bursting at the seems. There it sat - her entire life wrapped into one not-so-tiny package. She sighed - it wasn't that she didn't want to go, she just wasn't sure she was ready.<p>

It had been two weeks since she told him she was leaving, and about 10 days since he told her not to come back.

She supposed that was the worst way of remembering it. To his credit he hadn't told her not to come back, he didn't even say she couldn't. It was more that he asked that she didn't, implied that she shouldn't.

That day, lifetimes ago now, she had walked into the house the same way she always had. She dropped her bag on the bench just inside the door, and hung her coat on the same hook she had for the past 22 years. She kicked off her shoes in the general direction of the mat, and made her way into the next room. The kitchen was big, though not glamourous. It was more along the lines of functional - it was a farmhouse, after all - perfect for the family of 6 that lived there.

It was of course mostly empty now.

Being the youngest, she was the last one to have left home to go to school. Even then she had barely left. For the full four years she made the six hour drive home from Edmonton at least once a month, provided school, work, and volunteering didn't get in the way. She would arrive on the friday, have dinner with her dad, then stay up late telling him about how her roommate was a slut, all the boys were jerks, and her classes were amazing.

She found him that day in his usual place - at the head of the large wooden table, newspaper in hand. She greeted him the same way she usually did, with something stupid like 'howdy ho' or 'sup pops', before sitting down at the opposite end of the table. When the last of her four older brothers left when she was in her final year of high school she had taken up the seat, amused at how different things looked from that position.

She took a deep breath, and figured it was good idea just to tell him. She had spent the entire drive home working up the guts to tell him, and now that she was there she thought it best just to spit it out.

He didn't respond. Not right away.

He gave his signature nod, and they sat in silence for a painfully long time. When the silence was broken it wasn't with anything important, he simply asked which vegetable she wanted with her dinner. They ate in silence, cleared the table in silence, washed the dishes in silence. When it came time, she said goodnight, he said it back, and they both went to bed.

The next few days were about the same. They didn't talk about it. He avoided the subject; she opted not to approach it since she figured she didn't want to spend the next two weeks arguing with him about it.

On the fourth day he responded to what she had told him. He told her that he was surprised that she wanted to use her degree in psychology to be a cop, but that he thought she'd be great at it. He told her it worried him, but if it was what she wanted she should go for it.

She told him it was.

And then he told her that he loved her, that he always would, but that he couldn't stand by while she risked her life, couldn't constantly worry when she worked late, couldn't always call back, didn't respond to emails right away.

He couldn't be a part of her life, so long as she was a cop.

She took it all in, every last word. It scared, terrified, crushed, hurt her. And yet when she thought about it, she couldn't just give up on her job. She worked her ass off through four years of school, working full time hours at a part time wage, volunteering anywhere that would take her, all so that when the day came she'd have the application that would push her to the top of the pile. The RCMP would take her, would want to take her. She told him that, and he smiled, told her she'd be great.

After that she figured it would be a little over a week of awkward silence, while she felt sad and he felt angry.

Instead, he took the opportunity to squeeze in every ounce of father daughter advice he had. She told him she had already gotten her fire arms certification, and he gave her advice on aim, on concentrating. He told her everything he knew about interrogation, about keeping both eyes on the job at hand and an extra eye on all the things that could go wrong. She told him she'd been working on repelling, told him how much she loved it. She told him she had read about Toronto's SRU, about how they were half swat, half talk, and whole badass. He laughed, and she told him she wanted to work there one day. He wished her luck with that, said they'd be lucky to have her.

Presumably because this was goodbye, he added in some life advice. Told her he didn't recommend getting married if she was a cop. He had been happy with her mother, but that was mostly because he had given up the police thing as soon as it got tough. He told her that the only person who could understand the life of a police officer was another police officer, and, generally speaking, those relationships didn't work out. _Generally speaking_ he repeated, almost as if he knew.

Finally the day came for her to pack up her beat up hand-me-down hatchback and drive to Regina for training. Her dad was the only one there to send her off, all four brothers preoccupied with whatever mess they were making of their lives. Once again he told her how much he loved her, told her to be the best badass there was. That was the last time she saw him.

She dropped him an email from time to time, which he never acknowledged. She did, however, get a message every year on her birthday, nothing major, just the basics. Years later, having just been recruited into the SRU, on team one no less, she decided she needed to call him. It had been long enough without hearing his voice, and if nothing else she knew he would be proud.

So she did it. She picked up the phone, dialled all eleven numbers, incurred the long distance charge of a lifetime. She almost fell over when a woman's voice came through the phone, pulled it away so she could double check that she had dialled the right number. She asked who was speaking, and attitude repeated the same question back. She identified herself, and suddenly the woman was telling her all about how she was _Casey_, her brother Andrew's wife. She didn't know he had gotten married, evidently wasn't invited to the wedding. Tired of the woman, she asked to speak to her father, and suddenly the chatty voice on the other end was a lot less chipper. The words _you don't know?_ echoed through her head the way the subway tunnels scream as a train approaches.

The woman emphasized the part about him not suffering as she explained the accident that took him away. It wasn't on the farm, as she had worried when she was younger. Instead it happened on the highway. A rainy night, a speeding car, a quick end.

Her brothers, all four of them, hadn't even bothered to call when her father died. To their credit, they probably didn't know the exact circumstances of her and her father's relationship, or lack there of. Knowing her father, he would have been vague about it when her brothers asked about her at Christmas, simply telling them Jules wouldn't be joining them, that she couldn't make it.

Through all the silence on her end of the phone the woman managed to get her address out of her, said she found a box marked _Julianna_ and figured it was only right that she had it. She kept it together long enough to thank her apparent sister-in-law, and hung up the phone. Then she lost it, alone on her kitchen floor. She cried so hard her eyes were still red and swollen when she went in to work the next day. She worried they might think she was on something, but, as it turns out, cops are pretty good at distinguishing these things. This guy named Greg, arguably one of the more mature members of the team, had pulled her aside and somehow pried it out of her with three simple words: _Is everything ok?_

From then on she collected her own family, a new brood of brothers. Her work was already her life, but she finally had a family in her team. She got the box in the mail, but couldn't bring herself to open it. Instead she left it in her closet, where it collected dust for a matter of years. She never forgot about it, simply did not think about it.

That is, up until recently. The question seemed to come out of nowhere, hitting her over the head. For some reason when Sam had proposed she didn't see that coming. Suddenly she was freaking out, didn't know what to do, too overcome with guilt or grief or rage or confusion to think straight. Sam had tried, and failed, to talk her down. She yelled at him, towards him, in his direction, but not about him. She vented every last frustration, then stopped. _The Box_. She nearly dove off the bed and into the closet. She had to know. She broke nails ripping through the tape, and pulled out all the papers that filled the box to protect its contents during shipping. In the bottom she found a few pictures of herself and her dad, all from when she was a young child or in high school, all of which she already had copies of, along with a few stuffed animals. Somewhat defeated, she sat back against the wall. Sam started picking up the papers that had been spewed on the floor but stopped as his eyes fell across the print. _Jules, did you see what this is?_ She didn't look at him, didn't care. She shrugged off the question, but he was persistent, pushing the papers into her line of vision.

There, overtop of random childhood memories, was her life. The box had never actually been packed for shipping. Instead, it was loaded with every paper copy of an achievement it could hold. He had saved her high school diploma, and somehow gotten a copy of her university one. He had a copy of the announcement of her graduating class at police academy, copies of her emails, the letter accepting her into RCMP training, and every newspaper article he had determined to have been about whichever unit she was working with. She gathered that he must still have had some contacts on the force, because although she did mention which department she was working in, she never once mentioned which city she was in.

Guilt and rage and grief and confusion subsided, and she asked Sam what she should do. He told her it wasn't up to him, but he did list off her options. He told her she didn't need to pick someone else, that she was an adult and there was nothing that said she needed someone at all. But, he told her, if she really wanted someone to do it, he knew of someone who would.

That was how she ended up there that day. She stood around the corner, waiting, working up the courage. Deciding it didn't get much worse than a grown woman lurking in a hallway, she went for it, knocking on the door as she entered. "Sarge? You got a second? I wanted to ask you a favour…"


	17. Return of the Toth

**A/N: Don't ask me what he's doing there, this is just what happened when I sat down with my laptop in the break room at work. We'll just assume the incident he brings up ended poorly and he's being a nosy ass. **

* * *

><p>"Have a seat," Toth said, directing Sam into the chair next to Jules.<p>

Sam furrowed his brow. "What is this? Couple's therapy?" He looked at Greg, who simply nodded his head towards the chair, indicating that Sam should just sit and get it over with.

As he connected Sam to the polygraph, Toth explained the situation. "I would like to get a read on the two of you as partners, so I've requested that Halloran let me evaluate you together."

Sam turned to look at Jules, who simply shrugged in mutual confusion.

Toth settled into his chair, opened his notebook and looked at Jules. "Have you ever awoken to your husband choking you?"

Jules stared straight at him. "No, he doesn't have PTSD. Is that what you want to hear?"

Toth didn't look up from his notes. "Is it the truth?"

"Yes," the two said in unison.

"Then that's what I want to hear. Do you two sleep in the same bed?"

Jules squinted slightly, unnerved by the bluntness of the question. "Yes."

"Does your husband ever have nightmares?"

"Yes. We both do. It comes with the job."

"Does he talk to you about them? Tell you what they're about?"

"No."

Toth perked up, sat up a little straighter, his peaked curiosity evident in his voice. "Is that because he doesn't trust you?"

Sam and Jules both raised an eyebrow at the accusation. "No. He doesn't tell me because he doesn't have to. I already know."

Toth frowned, raised his brow. "…because your understanding of psychology means you automatically know what everyone is thinking? You know Julianna, grandiose delusions are a sign of a…"

Jules cut him off. "I'm not a psychopath. I know because when he has them he talks in his sleep. I hear him because we sleep in the same bed, as we already established."

Toth turned his attention to Sam. "What about your wife? Does she tell you about her nightmares? Or does she talk in her sleep too?"

Sam gave a small chuckle. "Only when she's trying to order a pizza from the nightstand." When he noticed Toth wasn't amused he added, "Yes, she tells me about her nightmares."

Toth scribbled down some notes, and pulled out a file from the pile in front of him. "Critical incident 1459: Multiple subjects in an abandoned warehouse. Julianna was paired with Officer Lane when you two are usually paired with each other. Did that bother you?"

"No," Sam said simply.

"It didn't bother you that on a call where there were 9 armed subjects running around you weren't able to protect your wife?"

"No. I trust Ed. Besides, she's capable of taking care of herself, she doesn't _need_ me to protect her."

"On the same call you were paired with Officer Rousseau, the last person to join the team. Did it bother you that you were assigned to the rookie? You've known and trusted the rest of the team longer..."

"Raf has been on the team for years, he's hardly a rookie. And yes, I've known the rest of the team longer, but that doesn't mean I trust Raf less."

"And it didn't bother you when Julianna was taken hostage on that call?"

Sam shook his head. "Of course it bothered me."

"Because as her partner Officer Lane should have been protecting her better?"

"No. Partners protect each other, its not one sided. Somehow one of the subjects on the jump on the two of them, they shot Ed and took Jules hostage. There was no blame to be placed except on the subjects."

Toth jotted more notes on his pad, anxiously awaiting something promising from the polygraph. Then he flipped through the employee records in front of him. "You two got engaged, were married, and had a child within a matter of months. Why the rush?"

Sam smirked and said, "Because we're not getting any younger?", which earned him a sharp jab to the ribs from his wife.

Jules took over, answering for them both. "No rush, we just didn't see any reason for a long engagement."

"Is that the truth? Or was it because you wanted to get married before either one of you had a chance to change your mind?"

"What's your machine tell you?"

Toth nodded. "Ok. That explains the marriage. What about the child?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "He has a name, and I know its in the file so you can feel free to use it. And, if we need to explain that to you then perhaps you should go and take grade nine health class one more time."

Jules, who had been sipping on a bottled water, choked on a laugh, and spat water all over Doctor Toth.

Sam just grinned - his wife was awesome.


	18. Still No Place He'd Rather Be

He had told Jules it was a bad time - two young children, beyond hectic work lives, and she wanted to throw a puppy into the mix?

_Vomit on the carpet._ The lucky, and now sick, puppy must have gotten his paws on some of the cookies Jules had made with their older child earlier that week. He quickly fetched the necessary supplies from the kitchen and cleaned it up before making his way back towards the source of the crying.

_One half-chewed baby sock in the hallway. _He made a mental note to throw out it's mate later so the dryer didn't take the blame.

He swiped at his own sweaty forehead - the puppy wasn't the only sick one. Somehow, likely from a recent hot-call at the hospital, Sam had contracted a lovely flu bug, which he then shared with Jules, which was quickly picked up by their 'everything-belongs-in-my-mouth' three year old son. It was only a matter of time before their sweet baby daughter would catch it too.

Whether it was the thought of the bug or the affects of it, Sam didn't know. All he knew was he had to duck into the bathroom on his way down the hall to evacuate the remains of his lunch from his rapidly turning stomach.

He brushed his teeth, splashed some cool water on his face, and composed himself before continuing down the hall. He found Jules on the rocking chair in their daughter's room, fussing baby in one arm, screaming toddler in the other. All it took was a look and they seamlessly traded places before she headed to the bathroom to do some stomach evacuating of her own.

The source of the carpet vomit, the husky they'd foolishly allowed their son to name _Snowy_, sat on the floor in front of him, staring him down. Taunting him, even. It amazed him how even through bouts of her own nausea she still appeared to want to play.

Jules returned, pale faced and tired eyed. She picked up the toddler, arguably the least settled of the two and took him to his own room. They shared the theory that if they separated them then perhaps they'd have a shot of getting one, if not both, of them to sleep.

Sam took a hesitant breath as he moved from the rocking chair. Looked like his _daughter_ had tired herself out with all the fussing and gone back to sleep. _Daughter_. He still loved that word - saying it, hearing it. Now he had both - a son _and_ a daughter.

He set her down in her crib, checking one last time to make sure she didn't have a fever. _Resilient little thing_, he mused, as it appeared she was successfully fighting off the flu that had knocked the rest of the family on their asses. He made his way down the hall with shaky steps as his own sickness had destroyed what remained of his energy. He'd noticed a few minutes before that his son had stopped screaming, which meant Jules was likely in the process of pulling a similar ninja exit move to what he had.

_Both asleep… excellent…_

He met her in the hallway, and they walked arm in arm to the living room. To an onlooker it may have seemed sweet, romantic even. They would be wrong, however, as it was evidence of their own fatigue, and a literal need of physical support.

They flopped down on the oversized sofa, lazily turning their heads to face each other.

"The dog ate the cookies."

"Great," Jules sighed. Any other time she might have mocked him, telling him he can't blame everything on the dog, or the kids for that matter. This time though, too tired to think, she'd take his word for it.

Their fingers lingered near each other, not quite holding hands, not quite pulling away. They were both sweaty, nauseous, and cranky, not in any real mood to be touched. Still, the closeness was working wonders for their moods. They laid there for forever, though it certainly wasn't for long enough. Compelled to by the silence devouring their home for the first time in what had to have been years, they both let their eyes begin to drift shut, desperately seeking a moment of well deserved rest.

Their moment was short lived. Just as he was about to give in and let consciousness slip away completely, he heard. Heard everything.

The puppy was running up and down the hallway, stopping for seconds at a time to rid his stomach of more of Jules' cookies. The toddler was calling for _mommy_ and _daddy_ from his _big boy bed_ in between bursts of sobs and coughs. Oh and, judging by the heart breaking cry coming from the end of the hall, the baby was up too.

He turned to look at Jules, who took a deep breath and steadied herself as she sat up. "So… fun weekend off, eh?"

He managed a small, yet sincere, smile as he too began to sit up. "Still no place I'd rather be," he told her.

She may have rolled her eyes and gave a small chuckle, but they both knew he meant it.


	19. Keepsake

The sun began to fade outside the window as Jules fiddled with the blanket wrapped around her newborn baby. She smiled as the newborn yawned, an action that seemed to set off a chain reaction as she let out a small yawn of her own. She smiled a little more as she mused that this would be a common action for her in the coming months - after all, she'd been through this once before, and knew what to expect.

She broke the staring contest she had been having with the infant just long enough to check the clock. Sam had left quite some time ago to drop off their son at Natalie's for the night. She wondered briefly, and somewhat nervously, where he had run off to - Natalie lived within blocks of the hospital, so he had to have been making another stop. Maybe he had gone by the house, though she thought she had made it clear she was only joking about missing her panda slippers.

She still wasn't sure how Sam felt about the idea of having a daughter. She recalled how his face had looked the day they found out it was a girl. He had fallen silent. Then he had smiled and told her that that meant they would have one of each, that it would be fun to have a girl around. Before that, when they hypothesized about the possibilities, Sam had said the stereotypical things. He had joked about how there would be girls all through the house in a few years if they had a second boy, and that if it was a girl then she wouldn't be allowed to date until she was thirty. Jules had mentioned that it would be nice to have another girl in the house because she was feeling outnumbered, to which Sam had laughed and pointed out that that was basically the story of her life. It was a fun conversation, she was sure it wasn't meant to be more than casual laughs over a belly that was rapidly taking over her petite frame, but it had left her a little uneasy. She got the feeling Sam wasn't sure how to respond to a little girl, being of the somewhat manly-man genre.

"Hey, sorry that took so long," Sam apologized as he rushed back into the room and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

"Thats ok," Jules smiled, as she trailed her fingers through the thin layer of blonde hair covering her daughter's head. With Sam's hair and Jules' eyes, the baby was the exact opposite of their son. "Everything ok?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Nat's making 'big brother sundaes' and has a cartoon marathon planned. I did make another stop though," he told her, raising a small gift bag so she could see.

"Whats that?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Sam grinned. "A gift for my little girl. Though I think you may need to open it for her." He set the bag on the table beside the bed as he took the contented infant from her, whispering a greeting and kissing her on the forehead as he did so. "Open it."

Jules still looked at him questioningly, but curiosity was getting the better of her. She had to know what was in the bag. She pulled the tissue out of the way, revealing a small wrapped box. Sam, knowing how she felt about having to unwrap so much to get to the good stuff, simply grinned as she glanced up at him. She carefully removed the shimmering paper, and pulled the lid off of the box. Inside she found a small velvet box, which she immediately picked up to look inside. Sam put out his free hand to stop her for a moment.

"I know its not something for babies, don't worry. I just think it'll be nice for her when she's older, sort of something to keep forever and that kind of thing…" he trailed off as Jules turned her attention back to the box.

Her eyes fell on a small heart-shaped locket. She ran her fingers over the front of it, which had a small stone in the centre of it. "Its beautiful," she whispered.

"Its her birthstone," Sam explained. "Open it."

She did as she was told and flicked it open. On one side he had had their daughter's date of birth engraved, the other was left blank.

"I figure once we get a picture of the four of us we can put it in there for her, or we can wait until she'd older and she can put whatever she wants - Jules?"

Jules' eyes snapped up from the necklace. "How did her birthday get in there?" The question sounded straight up dumb, but they both knew what she meant.

"I ordered it a few weeks ago. Took a chance with the birthstone. I figured her due date was the 15th, so, early or late, she'd most likely be born this month. The date, well, I called this morning. The jeweller owed me a favour, so he did it right away."

Jules smiled - she knew the favour was in return for how their team, specifically Sam, had helped him out a few months back. "Sam this is… I…wow… I mean its just so…" she swatted a few tears away, blaming them on hormones when Sam quickly handed her a box of tissues.

As she dabbed at her eyes, the flood gates threatening to burst for the umpteenth time that day, she took in the sight in front of her. Sam had turned his attention away from her, and was completely focused on his baby girl. He stared, completely enamoured with the tiny human who sat gazing up at him in wonder.

"God, Jules she looks so much like you," Sam grinned as he glanced back up at her. "She's perfect."

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><p><strong>AN: I'm such a sap...**


	20. Bubbles

**A/N: What's this? My THIRD posting of Jammy fan fiction TODAY? Yeah... quick explanation - my mac has decided it doesn't know how to connect to my wi-fi at home so when I got to school today I started going through my stories and realized theres a bajillion of them I haven't posted... by that I mean like 3 or 4... Anyways... almost forgot about this one! And now I'll take a few hours off of writing fan fiction, as I have a paper due in 3 hours that has yet to be started (its 2 pages double spaced, so really its like 1 so don't judge me!)**

**So, in the words of my professor (although he used it in a vastly different context...) :**

**"Go! Enjoy! Play in the Bubbles!"**

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><p><em>ahh… water perfect temperature… kids napping… salts dissolved…<em>

"Sam? What are you doing?" Jules called from the hallway.

"Not now, Jules."

She entered the room she gave him a judgmental stare as she took in the image of him the in bathtub. "Tough morning off, Constable?"

He groaned. "For your information, yes. Now shhh, you're ruining my moment."

Jules raised an eyebrow. "Ruining your moment? Wow…Are those _my_ bubbles? The ones the kids got me for christmas?"

"Technically, since the kids' money still comes from _our_ account, they're _our _bubbles."

"Uh huh. And you're taking a bubble bath at 1 in the afternoon because...?"

"Because I had a very tough morning. How was the night shift?"

"Dull, aside from the 4 hours I spent with SIU this morning. Were the kids good for you? What happened?"

Sam sighed, sinking deeper into the bath. "We went tobogganing."

Jules moved a pile of towels and sat on the closed toilet, smirking as she watched the bubbles begin to disappear. "Did they fight over the crazy carpet? Why didn't you just make them take turns like I did when I took them last week?"

"They didn't fight over the sleds. They did however get me to go down the hill with them a few dozen times."

Jules smiled. "I'm sorry I missed that, that sounds like a lot of fun."

Sam shook his head. "You would think. Thing is, I'm not as young as I used to be… we hit a few bumps and my ass is killing me."

She let out a hearty laugh, trying to reel it back in when she saw the pitiful look on his face. "Poor you…" she managed, before another rib shaking laugh took over and she couldn't speak anymore.

"By the time we got back I couldn't even sit at the kitchen table with them while they ate lunch." Sam groaned, shooting her a spiteful glare. "Thanks for your support…"

Jules wiped a few tears from her eyes as she tried to put on a straight face. "I'm sorry… Hey, is that why the kids said 'daddy hurt him's _ask_'?"

"Huh? The kids are napping…"

Jules shook her head. "Nope, both awake. They met me at the door."

"Oh," Sam looked surprised, a little disappointed in his parenting skills as he hadn't noticed they got up. "I swear I've only been in here like 5 minutes…"

"Its ok, I set them up on the couch, they're watching cartoons. I'll leave you to your bubbles," Jules laughed at him as she got up to leave the room. "Oh and by the way Sam? Don't use the word _ass_ around our children again."

He nodded that he wouldn't and clenched his eyes shut. So much for his nice, relaxing bath.


	21. Drive

She'd driven for nearly an hour, in and out of crowded downtown neighbourhoods. She told herself she was just wasting time until she had to go home. Home to nothing in particular, simply her life as she knew it.

She had passed the grocery store, the drug store, the gas station. None of them were what she was looking for.

The day played and replayed in her mind, the incessant repetition of the same events ringing in her ears to the point where she feared the lines between memory and present time may be blurring.

Another stop light, another decision. It would be so simple now. Left, right. Either one would have done the trick. Expressway to one side, scenic route to the other. Both would have taken her home, both would have put this disastrous day behind her. Shit, even a U-turn would have done the trick, there were no signs saying she couldn't. And yet she kept going.

There was no hesitation.

Autopilot devoured her, left her powerless to stop it. As she shifted into second gear, she knew where she was going, and it sure as hell wasn't home. Moving into third gear did nothing to discourage her from her current route. If anything, it spurred her on.

_Fuck it._

What difference did it really make at this point anyways? It wasn't just about them, it was everyone. Everything was going to shit, why not just go for it? She felt the target on her back, the disciplinary action threatening to pierce her carefully crafted defences at any moment, but this time she didn't care.

This time was different. It was time to take the goddamn chance. There may not have been hesitation in her actions, but an inkling, and only an inkling, of doubt drifted through her mind.

_This is such a bad idea. Its not just about me. Selfish. Thats what this is._

She continued driving in spite of herself.

_Selfish? Fuck that. It takes two. He can make his own fucking decisions, I'm just presenting my side. He can do with it whatever the fuck he wants. _

Emotions overloading her she willed herself not to cry. Against her wishes the tears came.

_No reason to cry. Suck it up and just do it!_

Needing a minute she pulled off the road. She rubbed at her eyes, pushing the tears away. It only took a few seconds before calm came over her again, and she was just as determined as she had been when she started this death drive. Glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror she scowled; make-up everywhere. She rummaged through her glove compartment until she found the cloths she kept in there for just such an occasion, and cleaned her face. This time her reflection showed only her; tired and worn from the day from hell.

It was her, plain and simple. That level of simplicity was all she needed, and she kept driving.

She noticed that traffic was much heavier on the opposite side of the road - it was like some mass exodus from her destination, and yet it did nothing to discourage her from going. Any other time, any other place and she might have taken it as some kind of cosmic sign to turn around, get the fuck out of there.

Not this time.

A parking spot could have been put there just for her - right near the door, easy to get out of if she needed to make a quick exit. They should have just put her name on the damn thing.

She didn't think twice as she flew past the elevators to the stairs - she could take those faster than it could move her anyways.

Suddenly she was there, knocking at the door. And suddenly he was there, staring her down.

_Its not gonna go away._

No turning back now.


	22. Camping

**A/N: It's been a long time since I did a one shot and I've been meaning to write this particular one since I wrote chili con fiasco part two... Enjoy :) **

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><p>She flinched as yet another drop was added to the moisture collecting on her forehead. And another. Was Sam drooling on her in his sleep? She tried to remember which position they were in when they finally fell asleep. The last thing she could remember was resting her head on his shoulder and… No, that couldn't be Sam.<p>

Her eyes shot open as she discovered the source.

"Sam! Oh my god, wake up!" she yelled, throwing the blankets off of them.

"Whaaaatt… Sam sleeping…" he groaned.

"It's raining!"

His eyes opened slowly as he tried to confirm what she had just told him, and what that even meant in their current situation.

"Get your ass up and help me!" Jules demanded, shoving her feet into her hiking boots as she unzipped the door of the tent.

Sam snickered a little as he grabbed the nearest pair of track pants and hurried them on.

"Not funny! Where the hell is the top of the tent?"

"Trunk of the jeep? I don't know…"

"That's helpful," she scowled, digging through the trunk in question.

"Oh come on Jules, this is funny. It'll make a good story to tell the guys..."

"Oh yeah, you fooling around while our sleeping bags are busy being drenched by this freaking monsoon."

He rolled his eyes, half heartedly scanning the ground in the dark for the tent's rain cover from his position under the small tarp they had hung above their camp chairs. "We live in Canada, Jules, this is hardly a mon-"

"I swear to God Sam, if you don't start helping I will leave in the jeep and take that tarp with me."

He groaned and finally started helping, fishing through one of the bins they had used to pack their camping supplies. Glancing towards the sky for any indication that the rain might stop soon he groaned again. "Jules, I found the cover…"

Her head popped up from the back seat of the jeep where she was now frantically searching. "Great! Where was it?"

"Up there," he said simply, pointing towards a tree. "I don't think that'll do much good now."

Her eyes widened as she followed his pointed finger to the mangled piece of fabric entangled in the branches of the tree. "This is all your fault," she told him, rushing to grab the half soaked sleeping bags from the tent.

"What are you doing? And what do you mean _my _fault?"

"Well we can't sleep in the tent, and I'm sure as hell not freezing to death in the jeep with no blankets."

He shrugged his agreement as he understood her plan, and followed behind her to grab the pillows and anything else dry he could find. They had to act fast, he thought, because it was now raining so hard that his already tight pants were caking themselves to his legs. _Already tight pants…_ "Shit!"

"What?" Jules asked, turning around to look at him from where she was quickly clearing space for the two of them in the back of the jeep. "Oh Sam…" she managed through a hysterical laugh at the sight of him in _her_ track pants.

"Yes, yes, Sam wears lady pants. Can you pass me a dry towel or something?"

"Nuh uh. You got yourself into _that_," she waved a hand in circles indicating his downstairs region, "so you can get yourself out."

He shrugged and looked around quickly at the trees surrounding him. "Ok then."

She all but snorted as he peeled the pants off himself in the middle of the woods and climbed into the jeep naked. "Leave those pants outside. You're not getting the seats all wet."

"Um, this _is_ a jeep…"

"So? If I wanted wet seats I would have left the top off."

"Whatever you say. Now tell me, how exactly is this all _my_ fault?"

She glared at him as she stuffed the last of their sleeping bags in and climbed into the jeep next to him. "Oh I don't know… '_Oh come on Jules, lets leave the top off. It's a clear night, we can make love under the stars'_," she quoted him mockingly. "'_It'll be romantic…'_ I told you it was a horrible idea."

"It was not! It was a clear night and..."

"Clear night my ass!"

"Ok, so the weather changed. Still, you can't tell me you didn't _enjoy_ yourself," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh? And what if I was faking it?"

His smirk fell and he gave her a disappointed look. "Why would you do that to me? And on our honeymoon… for shame, Julianna, for shame."

"I said what if…" she giggled, arranging the dry portions of the pillows and blankets around them. She relaxed into the seat and cuddled into him as they watched the rain destroy their tent. "You were right about one thing though," she told him with a smirk.

"Oh? What's that?"

"You in those pants _will_ be an excellent story to tell the guys."


	23. Ground Rules

**A/N: Ok, so this is set some point fairly soon after Personal Effects. Yes I know that it's like 95% dialogue, I just hope it isn't too ridiculous to try to follow. And yes, it is short. But in my defence, I only wrote it because I'm procrastinating not one but two papers that are due tomorrow (and of course not yet started). I'll also go ahead and apologize for my lack of posting (in this and in other stories...) but as I'm sure I've said school is kicking my ass. April 6 I'll be free, so go ahead and start hounding me for updates at that time :) **

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><p>"We need to make some things clear."<p>

"Agreed."

"Ground rules: No PDA at HQ."

"Obviously. I want a drawer of your things at my place. We're not just going to your place because all your stuff is there."

"Fine. And I want you to have a drawer at my place. Same reason."

"Fine," he said, narrowing his eyes and pausing a moment to think. "You don't get to choose the job this time."

Her eyes widened a little and she nodded slowly. "I know."

"And I won't either."

A firm nod. "Good." There was a long pause as they sized each other up from across the kitchen island. "I'm buying you new pillows."

"I'm getting a fan for your room."

"Counter space."

"Where?"

"Bathroom. Curling iron."

He sighed. "Fine."

"Good."

"5 times a week."

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

"Sam…"

"I'm sorry, but that's a deal breaker for me."

"That's so much…"

"Deal. Breaker."

"That's going to get-"

He raised and eyebrow as he glared at her.

She folded her hands and tapped her fingers against her lips as she contemplated his demand. "You'll need to get a-"

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"Fine. I just don't understand why that's so important to you."

"Jules, it's like heaven in a glass."

"It's a mango smoothie."

"Which I will be getting 5 times a week."

She just shook her head at his smug grin. What had she gotten herself into?


	24. Sticky Keys

**A/N: Ok, so, Spoiler Alert. Fault Lines, Personal Effects, Shockwave, Priority of Life, Slow burn... Ok, so like all of season 4, and lets just say anything with Jam in it, just to be safe. Additional note regarding the inspiration for this oneshot at the bottom, so as to not divulge too much. **

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><p>They hadn't spoken about her since his last visit. Since he swung by the base to see what the General wanted and was faced with the cruel task of breaking her heart. Since he was twenty-one it's been the same thing: <em>Sammy, when will you find a nice girl? Sammy, when will I get grandbabies?<em> His mother simply could not wait.

Each phone call home from overseas followed the same format - The General would ask the work questions, before passing the phone to his mother who would ask the personal ones. _When will you be home? Will you be here to stay? I'm not going to live forever, I'd like to be around for your wedding. _

Her hopes had been so high last time. He had regretted telling her of the relationship in the first place, knowing the chances of it ending were so very high. He had seen it coming from a mile away, yet he ignored it and let it slip to her over the phone one night that there was a girl, that he was actually seeing someone. It was a mistake. While she had put on a brave face for his benefit, citing all kinds of crap about fate that was meant to make him feel better, he could tell it crushed her nearly as hard as it crushed him to learn it was over.

So when things started up again, when they decided to go for it and throw a figurative fuck you at Larry Toth, when they both faced the crushing reality that it wasn't going to go away, he had no intention of telling her about it. Not because he believed things would end the same way, because he knew from the very moment she showed up at his door that he would drop everything, walk away from everything else, if it meant he got her. They'd both agreed that if, more like _when_, they were found out this time would be different. They'd take what was coming to them, together.

That was all. No discussion of how that would be, who would go where, what the options were. All they knew, was they weren't going to go through it again. They weren't going to forfeit their personal lives for their careers, weren't going to step aside and watch from a distance as the other tried to fill the hole that _they_ had left.

Still, he didn't tell her. He refused to get her hopes up. He even made Natalie swear not to say anything. Made her repeat it in his living room over a pizza: _Not a damn thing to Mom_. He wouldn't have her spilling to his mother, who would get her hopes up, then be squashed if for some reason things fell apart. It was a safety net.

And when things got a little too real - when Toth returned and they were faced with the glaring truth that they had been found out - he was silently thankful that she hadn't known, simply because the suspense of this all would have killed her. Typical mother she was though, as she managed to pick up from his tone of voice that something was wrong. All he'd managed to tell her was that things weren't going so great at work, and he might need to look for something else. She'd questioned it, but he brushed off her questions, hoping she'd accept that it was simply a performance issue, rather than that he had broken the rules again, and neglected to tell her about it.

He gathered that she figured it was a performance issue, which explained quite perfectly the phone call from the General. The one where he so kindly informed him of a position overseas that would offer him _more discipline_ and_ a chance to make a real difference_. If there hadn't been so much riding on the chief's decision, none of which he was ready to share with either of his parents, he would have told the General to take a hike. Questioned how dare he assume he was looking into other jobs because he wasn't good enough for the SRU. It pissed him off how quickly the man jumped to such conclusions, though, he supposed, what else would they have thought?

When the day came that they were given the news that they would both remain on team one, he was overjoyed. He might have called his mother that night to tell her everything, had he not been so busy celebrating with Jules. Jules who, after months of careful sneaking and keeping him at an inexplicable distance, suddenly started letting all kinds of things slip. Slips he figured she pretended didn't happen, ones that indicated her true desires. Ones that implied a future together exceeding two weekends from now. Ones that involved a house together, maybe some kids.

So this morning he sits in front of Jules' computer, staring at the keyboard as if it might dance. He's been sitting there since shortly after Jules left to go _pick up a few things_ after their morning run. He had no idea what a _few things_ consisted off, but that wasn't really his primary concern. As he types her name in the recipient box in his email he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he's about to type. For what the response could be.

He starts it off simple, casual. _How are you? How is the cat? How goes the quilting classes? _Then something snaps in him and he launches into it. Can't help himself. Now that he can, he will. He starts with the basics - _remember Jules? Well she was dating this guy for a while but then…_ - lies the groundwork for what he's about to drop on her. Tells of Toth, and his crusade to destroy team one. Tells her about it not going to go away, omits the part about Natalie walking in on him trying to get Jules naked on his kitchen counter. He tells her the mom-approved version of Valentine's day, and about the necklace he got Jules. Quickly adds in the bit about the bombs downtown - how upon regaining consciousness his first thought was _Jules_ - but limits the details so as to not gain himself a lecture over it. He gets up mid sentence to grab some toast to snack on, and when he sits back down he's right back into it. Hypothetical honeymoon. Toth, again. Anthrax. Bleeding out. Picnic. He avoids adjectives like great, or _so happy_, because he wants his mom to form her own objective opinion on things. He figures she'll know just how happy he is by the fact that he's just poured their entire relationship into one 5000 word email to her.

He ends it _Love, Sam_, and clicks the send button. No turning back now.

Jules returns, dropping a few bags at the foot of the stairs and going about putting some of the essentials away in the kitchen. She questions him on his morning, what he got up to while she was gone. He gives the standard _not much_, and goes to help her unload the groceries.

"They didn't have the regular whole wheat bread so it's honey oat this week. Hope you don't mind."

He shakes his head. "It all tastes like cardboard to me."

She rolls her eyes and puts away the cereal before leaving him to finish the bag he's been working on. "I also stopped by the mall… picked up something you might like," she throws over her shoulder as she heads to the living room.

"Oh?" he's only half listening as he tries to figure out what kind of vegetable she's got to force on him this week.

"Yeah, I'll show you after," she replies with a wink, which successfully grabs his attention. "Just give me a second here, I just need to pay my phone bill," she tells him, typing away as she opens her online banking. She cringes slightly and tries to wipe the keys off with her sleeve. "Sam? Why is there jam all over my keyboard?"

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><p><strong>AN: Thought of this a while back after making some joke (probably to myself) about having spilled Jam all over my keyboard in the process of writing a Jammy story… figured it would be fun if Sam did too. **


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